I Missed You
by Animated Ninjas
Summary: Does wanting attention from your family mean you're selfish? Is it bad to want attention from them even though they're constantly exhausted and are busy most of the time? I honestly don't know. FACE family. hinted PruCan


I was in my room snuggled into this huge fluffy blanket I bought myself since it's warm and my house is freaking cold. I booted up my laptop and placed it on top of my mountain of blankets. Clicking on the google chrome icon, I went to Tumblr; which now has taken over my highschool years which are supposed to be the time when I socialize. Pffft, no thank you.

My boyfriend Gilbert got me hooked onto it, it's actually pretty funny. But it can also be pretty sad and heartbreaking because some of the posts people make really hit a home run and leave me in a sobbing mess.

Anyway, I'm scrolling down my dash laughing at pictures of cats shoving their heads in boxes and watching bubbles freeze, when I see this one post about a game called Slenderman. I don't usually like horror movies, but I can handle scary games unlike my brother. (who is a total wimp when it comes to scary stuff) So I continue to read it.

The post is about someone's theory of Slenderman. It's about how Slenderman is a hero, and the parent who is supposed to be the player is the demon who abuses his kid. He goes after kids with abusive parent; that is why you can't win the game. He is the hero, and the parent is the bad guy. I kept reading the post and leaned into the screen.

My dad walked into the room, and I back up from the screen, and snuggled into my blankets more. Hoping he'd just go away. Don't get me wrong I love my dad, but most of the time he tries to force me to be more socially active too much and it gets annoying. I peer over the blue screen and look at him walking to my desk, and sits down in my chair. Today, as per usual, he's dressed somewhat casually with an argyle sweater, and neat khaki pants.

He sighs and looks up at me, then shifts his eyes to my laptop. Dad takes a deep breath and says, "So, what are you reading?" I don't answer right away. This is new for me. Dad rarely tries to strike up a conversation with me, he's usually at work with papa down at the bakery. Papa does the cooking while he does the numbers.

"Uh, it's post about a horror game." I don't say anything else in case he wants to say something. Dad only responds with an 'ah,' but doesn't say anything else. He stands up and walks over to my bed and sits down at the edge of it. Okay, now this is really weird.

"Um, are you okay dad?" I ask, he doesn't answer and stares at the floor. I close my laptop and place it over to the side. I shift around in blankets and face him, I feel rude when I'm on my laptop when talking to someone. I ask again, "hey dad, you alright?" Again he doesn't answer. But this time he glances at me.

Well, that's a start.

He opens his mouth like he's going to say something, then he closes it. Dad starts to twiddle his thumbs together; he does that when he's nervous. Dad looks at me again and says "I'm worried about you Matthew," He glances at my laptop, "You don't talk much anymore, and you're in your room most of the time on your laptop, it's almost like your shutting us out." I widened my eyes when hearing that.

Dad licks his lips nervously, "Even Papa is starting to worry, he thinks that you're mad at us for something." He stops and looks at me. He looks so sad and worried, especially with his enormous eyebrows bunched up in the middle. I didn't notice it before, but he has bags under his eyes, and his hair is even messier than usual.

"Well, I'm not mad at you guys. And you didn't do anything wrong." I mutter. His shoulders relax slightly, but he's still tense.

"Then what's wrong? Why won't you talk to us?" I shrug, but don't say anything. Dad sighs again and stands up. He walks towards the door, and reaches for the handle when I whisper, "I'm just a little lonely."

I didn't expect him to hear that, but apparently he did. He freezes, and looks at me. Kind of embarrassed, I shrink down in my blankets with my face heating up. Hoping he'd just walk away, I burrow even further into my cocoon of blankets. I hear him walking towards me and I hear the creak of the bed where he's sitting. Dad then wraps his arms around me. "Why didn't you ever tell us?"

I wiggle a bit in his grasp, but he doesn't let go. "Because I felt that I didn't really have the right." I said. I heard him gasp and let go. I peeked out of my blankets to see dad look at me incredulously. His eyes were widened and his mouth was open and he wasn't breathing, like he was in shock.

"What do you mean by that? You can always talk to us when you feel lonely." Dad spoke a little louder that time. I guess it was because he was surprised, like he couldn't fully comprehend what I was saying. I moved the blankets around my head so I could breathe better and get a good look at Dad.

I took a deep breath and started my explanation. "I felt that I didn't have the right," I looked at Dad straight in the eye, trying to be brave. "You and Papa are working really hard to make us live comfortably, and Al is out with his friends all the time. Yeah I have Gilbert, and he makes me feel better when I'm sad or whatever, but that doesn't mean I don't want attention from my family." I had to stop so I could take a breath; this is the most I've talked all day. "I felt like I was being selfish. You guys come home from work, school in Al's case, and you look so tired. I feel bad when I want to talk and spend time with you guys because you look so exhausted. I'm not gonna sugar coat it, you and Papa are getting old, and you guys don't have the energy to be working constantly. Let alone dealing with Al's shenanigans. I don't want to tire you even more with my conversations about writing a dumb article for journalism or whatever." I reached up to rub the back of my neck and look down at my lap.

I'm too nervous to look at Dad. I've just said everything that I have been thinking about for god knows how long.

I glanced up at Dad and- maybe my eyes are tricking me- he looks like he's crying…? What? My Dad, Arthur Kirkland, who's known for being insanely stubborn with emotions, is crying. Right in front of me, in my room. He leans forward and hugs me fiercely.

"I'm so so sorry Matthew. So, so sorry." He sniffs a couple times and hugs me even more. It takes my body a while to catch up with my thoughts, and when it does I hug him back. Dad's still crying though. His breaths become more raggedy and I can feel my shoulder getting wet through my T-shirt. "I've been a bad parent. I should have talked to you more, sh-should have payed more attention towards you. I've been neglecting you."

I pull back from the hug and stare at him. "No you haven't. You haven't been neglecting me at all. And you're a wonderful dad, I was just being an oversensitive drama queen." I smile and hug him again.

He laughs a little, it's rough, and scratchy from his crying. "You're not an oversensitive drama queen, that's your Papa's job."

"Maybe, but that doesn't mean I don't take after him in some ways."

"I missed you." I mumbled, still kind of embarrassed about the whole confession thing.

"I missed you too Matthew."

Dad pulls back from the hug and smiles. After that, we just kept talking, about anything and everything. We talked about when Carlos mistook me for Alfred one time and Gilbert beat him to a pulp explaining quite thoroughly our differences. And Dad told me about when he went on his honeymoon with Papa and they were at beach when there was a warning that a giant Tsunami that was going to hit. Turns out it never did. It was just a glitch in the program used to track it. The tsunami just fizzled out before even reaching ten kilometers from the shore. So Dad and Papa had to spend their honeymoon on top of a lighthouse stuffed with a bunch of other people.

And we continued talking. And it was nice, and we both talked till we fell asleep.


End file.
